


He Don't Hear A Word

by indigorose50



Series: Indigowallbreaker's Lazytown Prompts [117]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigorose50/pseuds/indigorose50
Summary: Prompt (abridged): Robbie Rotten gets stuck inside his lair for weeks. Not that it matters, he has everything that he needs. Then his periscope breaks. He is then reminded of his speakers waiting to be repaired. The deafening silence slowly drives him insane. Now he’s desperate in trying to get out. Meanwhile everyone hardly notices his absence, except for Sportacus, who has grown steadily worried after not seeing the villain for the past few weeks.





	He Don't Hear A Word

Day one hadn’t been so bad. The hatch had melted shut after his last machine blew up but who cares? He had plenty of cake mix, soda, chips, chocolate, cookie dough, sprinkles— all the essentials. It’s not like he needed to leave the lair for anything soon.

Day seven his periscope broke. No big deal. There was plenty to watch on TV. But then he remembered his speakers were on his “To Be Fixed” table. No sound or visual of the outside world. Still sounded like the perfect vacation.

Day 31 was when things started to get weird. Robbie couldn’t sleep. He had slept Enough; there was no drowsiness left in him. The kitchen was mostly empty but for a container of sugar, three eggs, and an unopened bottle of water Sportacus had forced on him months ago.

Nothing new was on TV. Robbie didn’t even bother turning it on anymore. The silence in the lair was _horrible_ but he preferred it to the repeated commercials. He sat slumped in his chair, staring at the entrance to his lair. If he could just clear his head he could figure out a way to open the hatch again. But the darkness of his home, the emptiness of his stomach, the soul crushing lack of noise— it was all too distracting.

* * *

“Robbie has not been up in a while, has he?” Sportacus asked casually one afternoon.

Trixie, who was on the ground drawing a hopscotch court, shrugged. “I guess not.”  None of the kids looked too worried, except Pixel.

“Now that you mention it,” Pixel said, looking in the direction of Robbie’s billboard, “I haven’t seen him or his periscope since that explosion almost two months ago!”

Sportacus also looked towards the billboard, “Explosion?”

“Yeah! You might have been asleep. It was really late at night. Anyway, one of my camera’s on the edge of town picked it up.”

Frowning, Sportacus stood up. “I think I’ll go and check on him.”

Shortly after, Sportacus back flipped to a stop in front of Robbie’s hatch. A bird had made a nest on top of the hatch. Sportacus waved it off and knocked. He called Robbie’s name. He knocked some more. He tried opening the hatch, but it wouldn’t budge. Had Robbie locked it? Or was something _else_ keeping it shut?

* * *

There was a distant banging noise above Robbie’s head. He ignored it. Imagined noised were happening more and more often now. He twisted the empty water bottle in his hands, eyes fixed ahead of him. Different parts of different disguise littered the ground. He had passed the time pretending to be various people and talking to himself. Now that his own voice was getting on his nerves, the imagined noises were almost welcome.

Sudden, there was a loud imaginary bang and light flooded out of the entrance tube. A very not-imaginary blue blur slid down and stood before Robbie, eyes wide and clothes bright in the gloom. Pixel slid down after him, holding an invention Robbie didn’t recognize.

Robbie stared. Sportacus started back. “S-say something.” Robbie winced at the sound of his voice.

“Robbie! What—”

Robbie jumped straight from his chair into Sportacus’ arms, weeping openly onto the hero’s vest. Pixel started asking a hundred questions, there were more sounds coming from the top of the pipe, and Robbie had never been more thankful for _noise_.


End file.
